


The Great Spattergroit Lockdown of 2000

by Mothwing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Established relationship Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humor, Online Teaching, distance learning - not only for muggles, most of my couples are F/F but the main one isn't, spattergroit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23769067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothwing/pseuds/Mothwing
Summary: Behind her left temple, Minerva could feel the beginnings of a headache, as unavoidable as this staff meeting had been.“There is nothing for it, we will simply have to think outside the box, and most likely should be taking a leaf out of the muggle’s books, with their expertise in communicating with each other over distances.” A sudden idea struck Minerva. “Severus, could you tell us more about this topic?”In the resulting silence, Severus put his teacup back onto its saucer and narrowed his eyes slightly.“And what,” he said silkily, “makes you think that I would be the ideal candidate to instruct the faculty in measures of muggle technology?”
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall/Severus Snape
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crockywock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crockywock/gifts).



Behind her left temple, Minerva could feel the beginnings of a headache, as unavoidable as this staff meeting had been.

“There is nothing for it, we will simply have to think outside the box, and most likely should be taking a leaf out of the muggle’s books, with their expertise in communicating with each other over distances.” A sudden idea struck Minerva. “Severus, could you tell us more about this topic?”

In the resulting silence, Severus put his teacup back onto its saucer and narrowed his eyes slightly.

“And what,” he said silkily, “makes you think that _I_ would be the ideal candidate to instruct the faculty in measures of muggle technology?”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, with lots of throats being cleared and people stirring their teacups. Minerva met his eyes levelly.

“Because, as you _well_ know, we do not have a muggle studies teacher anymore, Severus, and you and I are the only half-bloods with muggle parents on staff. I would help, but I doubt that my experience with the typewriter is going to be of much help.”

It had been an hour, and nerves were fraying all around. Severus did not reply, face closed. Minerva knew that she was likely the only one who saw the small clench in his jaw as she mentioned their blood status, and the way he tensed at the mention of Charity, whose chair remained empty, partly because she had not been able to hire anyone, partly to remember her. It had been a very strange year, and now that virus. She had a likely lad sent by Arthur Weasley fill in sometimes, as a favour to her, but the Department was busier than ever and he could only manage crash weekend courses to begin with. They would have to do without.

This conversation had been going around in circles for an hour now, Minerva had dismissed Poppy’s well-meaning suggestion of simply cloaking each student in the shield charm the teachers were using and renewing that every day several times, and reminded everyone of the Minister for Health and Magical Injuries’s stern warnings. This particularly curious strain of spattergroit had even entered the muggle world, which was more than puzzling, since it usually affected only witches and wizards, and Malcolm had had no kind words for the way this had been handled by his Ministry when she had talked about it with him. She ignored Severus and held out the plate of cookies for Pomona who obviously did not know where to look and took it gratefully.

“Well,” piped up Filius, gesturing with a ginger newt, “ideas taken from muggle technology notwithstanding, there must be other ideas we can pursue. Personally, I still do not understand why we do not simply issue weekly tasks and instructions via owl.”

“Don’t have enough owls, Professor,” rumbled Hagrid. “The school owls are used for a few deliveries per week each, that’s nothing to what you’re talking.”

“Muggle mail would work for a significant portion,” Severus said quietly, very closely regarding his teacup. Minerva shot him a grateful look. Everyone pretended not to be surprised at his contribution, thankfully.

“Those students are covered, you are correct, Severus.”

Septima looked at Filius, avoiding Minerva’s and Aurora’s eyes as always.

“What about portraits?”

The immediate snort that followed was undoubtedly from Phineas. Minerva briefly pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the on-coming headache.

“Yes, please, Septima, by all means, what a brilliant idea,” he drawled, walking from frame to frame until he stood behind the pale witch who frowned at him. “Only that it will be very difficult to store your encyclopaedic knowledge of… witchcraft in a mere portrait.”

Both pause and the way his eyes flitted to Irma and Aurora were not lost on anyone, though everybody was once more busying themselves with their tea. Severus’s face was inscrutable, though Minerva could see the slight curl of his right lip.

“That’ll do, Phineas,” she warned.

“What about magic mirrors?” Pomona asked, mouth half full of ginger newt.

“No,” Minerva eyed her best friend warmly. “Mirror magic is too unreliable at the best of times, and you’d have to teach on a one-on-one basis. For the same reason we have already discounted instruction through fireplaces.”

“We could use the thestrals to deliver tasks,” Hagrid offered. “They could do with the exercise and do not mind long distances.”

The pounding behind her eyes felt real now.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Hagrid, but aren’t they a herd? Would they even go anywhere… without the others in the herd?”

Hagrid nodded.

“We cannot send a herd of thestrals flying across the country to call on just over seven hundred households, Hagrid, the Ministry would have fits, and they have enough to be getting on with.”

“I am still convinced that simply handing the tasks through fireplaces would do the trick,” Aurora said archly, not looking at Septima.

“Would not work for muggle students, Aurora,” Minerva reminded her gently, earning a dark look.

“They’d get that mail, wouldn’t they? Or what about House elves?” the witch said with some exasperation.

“Again, sending them to appear in other households would work in pureblood households, but not solve the problem of timeliness. We could hand-deliver ourselves, after all.”

Aurora made a curt gesture with her hands to indicate that she was done with the conversation. _You and me both,_ Minerva thought darkly. She gave them all a look and put her hands on the table with some finality. 

“So. It appears we are back to my original suggestion, then. We mail out parchments enchanted with a protean charm and then simply write out instructions and they could go in the same delivery as the beginning of term information letter,” she said. Everyone groaned. “It _would_ work,” she insisted.

“Yes, but enchanting all those parchments would take hours,” Pomona said in a small voice. “And it’s been a _while_ since my last protean charm,” she added in an even smaller voice.

“It’s not as though you are busy elsewhere,” Minerva snapped. “Yes, it’s cumbersome, but I don’t see anyone else have any bright ideas.” Her eyes were on Severus again, who avoided looking at her or any of his colleagues, though he appeared far more relaxed than during the first meeting.

“Also, at least three of us have a good working understanding of that spell,” she added, “so we can easily go over it again.”

The headache started to pound as all her colleagues’ eyes, like magnets, were drawn to Severus’s left arm.

“I am talking about Filius, Septima and myself,” she snapped. “Though I seem to recall Aurora also had a certain aptitude for charms.”

Aurora toasted her with her teacup, somewhat mollified.

“Now, on to the necessary changes to the curriculum. I am assuming that given the students own proper equipment, practical work will not be gravely affected in Astronomy and Arithmancy, correct?”

Twin nods of faces turned pointedly away from each other. _Give me first years over this lot any day,_ Minerva thought.

“Good. I’ve been working on getting permission for at least a part-time suspension of the Decree for the Suspension of Underage Sorcery for the period of two hours per day, lasting from eight to ten.”

A very pointed silence followed this announcement.

“Well?” She said, looking at Pomona, who had been the first to look at her again and was now scratching her ear reflectively. 

“Well, Headmistress, that does seem… rather early. Given that ordinary lessons do not start until nine, usually, _and_ they’re at home, after all.”

Minerva took a sip of tea to steel herself.

“Very well. Ten to twelve? The timing is immaterial to me, though I do think an early start and a bit of imposed self-discipline during this time might benefit the student body.”

Nobody replied.

“Ten to twelve it is,” she said with a deep sigh, head pounding, making a note and briefly pinching the bridge of her nose.

“So. Curricular difficulties? Transfiguration does not require any changes, I take it?”

Penelope made to speak, then fell silent and shook her head. Minerva felt yet another stab of annoyance. That was the problem with former students teaching, they did not like to talk back to you.

“I do not foresee any difficulties for any subject,” Sybill said a little testily and Minerva fought the urge to roll her eyes skywards.

“Excellent Sybill, I’m happy that you found that your students can be trusted to keep up their work with tea leaves and tarot cards. I am not sure that the same will go for the other subjects, especially the more practical ones,” she said, ignoring Sybill’s enraged _tut_ and giving the other teachers enquiring looks.

“Charms will also not be difficult, I’ve omitted the more dangerous spells and intend to instruct my advanced course in individual sessions over the fireplace,” said Filius.

“Neville?”

The young wizard cleared his throat.

“Well, I don’t think it will be much of a problem up to OWL level if this lasts only for the first term, I’m having students create their own herbarium with easier plants I still have to put together, but for… more demanding flora they definitely will need instruction.”

Severus narrowed his eyes briefly and Neville looked at his plate. Minerva nodded encouragingly.

“Excellent, Lo- Neville, that’s the spirit. Pomona? Ideas?”

Pomona was looking at Neville and scratching her chin thoughtfully.

“Well, there are several seeds you could send out via any sort of post, but which still require supervision. We don’t want anyone growing their own venomous tentacula at home, after a- _Oh!_ Sorry Minerva, that was in poor taste.”

Minerva shook her head gently.

“Don’t worry about it, Pomona,” she reassured, ignoring the younger staff members’s confused looks and how Pomona immediately patted Neville’s arm, indicating she’d tell him later. She could feel Severus’s dark eyes on her and gave him a very brief wry smile.

“Potions?”

His expression darkened slightly.

“As you well know, it is very … difficult to instruct students in the proper procedures and following recipes even under the closest of guidance. I for one think that this year will simply have to be repeated for all.”

The silence that met those words was deafening.

“Come now, Severus,” she admonished gently when no one else would say anything. “Surely, the easier recipes ought to work?“

“With all due respect, Headmistress, they still contain dangerous materials that are hard to procure, especially for muggle households. Where are they going to get powdered pixies?”

“Very well, what do you suggest?”

“As I said, they simply ought to stick to cookery and otherwise have to do over the Potions requirements.”

They locked eyes, Severus utterly serious.

“Very well, I defer to your professional opinion.”

And the staffroom erupted. 

“Outrageous!”

“We cannot make students—”

“ _Even_ in a core subject—”

“Quiet,” Minerva snapped. “I am certain that Severus will be more than able to make up for the time lost once the students are back,” she said. “And every department will have to come up with solutions themselves, which brings me to Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid?”

His huge beam took a lot of the tension out of the room.

“I’ve set them an observation task! They have to chart the appearance, diet, and habitat of the critters near their homes, there’ll always be summat close by,” he said.

“Thank you, that sounds like an excellent solution,” she said warmly. “Bathsheda?”

“I already sent out the translations required to all my students at the beginning of the month when it became clear this was going to happen,” the witch said with a cheerful smile, stretching in her chair. “They know what to do.”

Minerva ignored Phineas sniggering and mouthing ‘All seven of them’ behind her.

“Very good. I’m assuming that Defence Against the Dark Arts will be… equally difficult?”

Andromeda shrugged.

“They can still practice basic defence spells, so that’s what I’ll set them to do, and otherwise have them reading theory—yes, Severus, _theory,_ it’s not as though it’s not necessary, too.”

Minerva ignored the two looking daggers at each other and that several others of her colleagues had quietly started whispering conversations with their neighbours.

“Very good. If there is nothing else, I will see you all tomorrow. Thank you for joining me.” She stood up and made a gesture to dismiss them.

Severus, having been seated closest to her, was the last to arrive at the door, and lingered, allowing Pomona to pass him by.

“Severus, a word?” he stopped in his tracks, turned, and wordlessly inclined his head towards her. “I was serious about needing input on muggle technology.”

“Then ask Andromeda or Arthur,” he said with quiet venom. 

She scoffed and raised her eyebrows.

“Come now. Just go to the shops with me and let’s get ideas.”

He looked away, sighed, then suddenly shrugged and nodded, affecting a bow.

“Very well, Headmistress.”


	2. Chapter 2

They met the next day, both changed out of their usual clothes, both covered in the shielding charm. It was still unusual, seeing Severus in muggle clothes, his long hair incongruously hanging over the collar of his black shirt, the dark belt rather handsome with his dark trousers. Even while in the Order, he had never been out of his customary robes. They eyed each other wearily, his eyes betraying a strange annoyance. 

“Did you not say that we had to be in costume?” he said scathingly.

Minerva spread her hands, indicating her rather dashing yellow frock. “Well?”

His black eyes narrowed.

“Then why didn’t you change?”

“I did!”

“My… apologies, Headmistress. That is a very flattering… dress.”

She scoffed.

“Well, thank you very much indeed. Let’s go.”

And Minerva strode towards the muggle department store. She had been to them a few times in her life, and the best policy was not to appear phased by anything and walk with a purpose. Arabella was sitting on a bench inside, enjoying a large cookie in a napkin.

“Good morning, Arabella,” she said. “Shall we?”

“Yes, of course, Minerva. I must warn you, though, I am not good with technology, I _really_ do think that you ought to have asked someone else. Maybe—“

“No, I am not asking Petunia Dursley, and that’s the end of that.”

“But Vernon works with drills, who better to—”

“ _Think_ , Arabella, would they even help?”

There was a sudden _pshaw_ sound next to her and she realised it had come from Severus.

They entered the store and paused, taking it all in. There were large rectangles displaying films, though they were in colour now and looked very lively. There were cameras of all shapes and sizes. There were record players, tinier and tinier, some of them fitting into the palm of your hand. Along one wall were things that looked a bit like telephones. Minerva narrowed her eyes.

“Excuse me, young man,” she said, stopping a sales clerk in his tracks.

“I do apologise, I do not have a very good understanding of technology at all, but is there a way you could talk to several people at once on a telephone?”

He looked her up and down and smiled.

“Why, yes, you’ll be wanting this kind of phone, let me show you…” and he was off, Minerva following him with quick strides. She had always enjoyed these excursions, though she could see the trepidation with which Severus eyed the loud displays around them. Arabella was still standing next to the entrance, clutching her purse tightly to her chest, poor love.

The young man asked her what she was going to use it for, she explained it, and a moment later she found herself standing in front of a large grey box with another grey box on top of it. Severus next to her staring in concentration at a large contraption—television?— displaying people playing football. She quickly hid a smile, recognising the jerseys—it was the team Tobias favoured, and they were winning.

“You could give this a thought, too,” the clerk said. “It comes with Windows 2000 and the Microsoft Office suite already installed on it, too,” he added, as though this was rather a huge selling point.

Minerva nodded, her eyebrows raised, pretending to be impressed. “I most definitely will.”

Severus, having appeared next to her, looked as though he had stepped in something unpleasant and had his arms crossed behind his back, eyeing the clerk as though he was a particularly unfriendly seventh year.

“Have you ever seen an instant messaging client?” the clerk asked, excitedly, and when she denied, he pushed a button on the upper box that displayed things and showed her, talking her through it with lots of hand gestures, his eyes shining. She could not say she wasn’t enjoying herself very much. At some point during the proceedings, the dark, looming shadow of Severus had stepped behind her and was watching the youngster with unhidden disdain.

“Well, thank you very much,” Minerva said, nodding at him. “You’ve been most helpful.”

“Ta, love, just give me a shout if you need me back,” he said, waving cheerfully.

Minerva raised a hand in return and turned to Severus, who was in the process of poking the little oval shape connected to the box by a cord, but jumped upright to regard her sourly when he felt her looking.

“I would have gone with your father if I didn’t know you’d be livid,” she said, shrugging. He let out a very deep breath.

“I doubt he’d have the time,” he said so quietly she had to lean forward to hear him. “He’s been made manager of… something or other,” he added, hiding the shy pride.

“Congratulations to him!” she said happily, but Severus did not respond. Minerva extended her arm and he gallantly took it.

“Did you find anything useful?” he said dismissively, heading towards Arabella.

“Yes, actually,” Minerva replied, eying the bright, screens they were called, around them. “It’ll involve mirror magic, however, and that is not going to be very long-lived,” she added. “And projection charms.”

Severus let out another deep sigh, now following Arabella out of the shop and past a bench surrounded by a display of plastic ferns and palm trees. 

“If you keep up your grumbling, I won’t buy us all tea,” she admonished lightly, and saw the smallest smile appear and vanish an instant later.

They were careful with each other, as though both of them expected the other to change their mind and realise they’d made a horrible mistake any moment. Not that Minerva was going to, but she couldn’t blame Severus, really. She did not, on reflection, have a good track record with romance. A youthful crush who had long since died, her brief bout with Wilhelmina when she was still working at the ministry until Wilhelmina had met her partner, Rolanda when she was still a new teacher until _she_ had met _her_ partner, and Elphie when Minerva had gotten tired of saying no. Those had been three happy years, but Elphie had never been entirely happy, and. Well.

When the accident had occurred and Minerva had focussed on other things instead, in spite of Pomona’s and Rolanda’s well-meaning attempts to draw her out of herself. She was a good spinster aunt. She was a good Head of House. She was married to her school. She was busy, anyway. She was in love with her _much_ younger colleague, as she realised when waking up one morning, to her horror.

But she thought she’d done quite well to hide it, until she didn’t and told Severus, and was so mortified she did not talk to him for about a month afterwards. And then the war had come and they had all lived about a hundred years in the span of three, Severus had been believed dead, she had found him at his parents’ house and they had embarked on this… whatever it was, and now they were standing here, in the centre of a muggle shopping centre, a sad artificial fountain trying to brighten up the darkening corridors, so close Minerva could feel the warmth of Severus’s body.

“Let’s get that tea,” she said, somehow strangely glad that Arabella was there as an unlikely chaperone.

Over slightly stale buns and tea, she told them what she had found, Arabella staring at her with very round eyes, interjecting “They can really do that?” or “Cor!” here and there. Severus morosely poked his scone, not eating it.

“Well, and unless you have other contacts in the muggle world, Severus, that’ll have to do,” she said in closing, rubbing her hands together briefly to rid herself of the crumbs. She eyed him over the rim of her glasses, he putting down the piece of scone he had been about to eat.

“It may come as a surprise, Headmistress, but I was not well-liked during my time at Millcrest Primary School,” he said.

“Well with that friendly demeanour, that _is_ a shock.” Minerva was gratified at how his eyes briefly narrowed. “Alright then. I’d like you to visit your father and get as much information as you can that way. I’ll see if I can’t talk to the Grangers or anyone else who’ll give me the time of day.”

She could tell by his entire posture how little he thought of this idea, but also knew he would do it. He had a deeply rooted belief in authority, Severus had. Having finished tea and bun, Arabella and Minerva watched Severus force down the desperately dry scone. She got up and looked around for what to do with the little tray. Arabella pointed, and she put it away in the cart.

“Let’s head back,” she said. “Arabella, thank you so much, it’s been lovely.”

“Not at all, Minerva dear, and thanks for that tea.”

Minerva smiled at her and quite naturally took hold of Severus’s arm, to his brief alarm, but Arabella had already turned to go. They had to walk a while before they could disapparate safely, but she did not mind in the slightest. The summer weather was still palpable, and even though they kept their distance from the as-yet-unaware muggles, they were well-protected by the shield charm. 

“Headmistress,” Severus started, but bit off the word. “Minerva,” he amended, and she briefly squeezed his arm in acknowledgement. “Do you want me to call round my parents’ house today?”

She shrugged.

“The sooner the better, we need to figure out something. I’ll see what I can do with Filius and mirrors tonight, though my hopes aren’t very high. I’ll hope that someone at the ministry can help out, but all their enchanters are probably organising containment, so they won’t have time.”

“Arthur?”

“Malcolm says this disease was most likely spread by a wizard working at St Mungo’s selling enchanted items to muggles, so I’d imagine he must be quite busy. And ideas would really be appreciated.”

She could feel him sigh and the tension. He and his father were on good terms, by and large, but the past still cast long shadows, and there were things that would probably always stand between them. At least Eileen was doing well, she’d been able to keep her job for a very long time now, and the muggle programme she was enrolled in was really going well, too.

They turned a corner into a deserted street and suddenly Minerva found herself walking into Severus, who had stopped, and pressed a quick kiss to her very unresisting lips, her arms coming up to hold him by themselves before he vanished right out of them with a pop, the rude bastard.

Still smiling, she apparated in Hogsmeade and set out to walk back to Hogwarts at a brisk pace, then changed into her feline form for the sheer joy of running through the tall grass, and no worries in the world apart from the sounds all around her promising good hunting, and food, and the certainty of a rest on a sun-warmed stone after a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

“Will everyone please _stop_ throwing floo powder at the mirrors! That is _not_ how that works!” Severus snapped.

Minerva, sitting at her desk, was starting to doubt her colleagues’ collective sanity. Her mirror was divided up into sixteen smaller rectangles, each showing another mirror in theory. Mirror magic being mirror magic, they were wont to freeze up in unflattering poses, show something else entirely if the mirror did not feel like participating anymore, or random corners of the room if the colleague in question had decided to put down their mirror somewhere she really hoped only looked like a bathroom. Cuthbert’s, Irma’s and Argus’s squares were all showing the ceiling of the Great Hall, where she had given the demonstration. 

“Everyone, please pick up your mirrors and let’s see if this works. Pomona, we can all see you, you do not have to stick your mirror in the fireplace to make it work,” Minerva said.

“HELLO?”

“Sybill, we can all hear you,” Andromeda said testily to the witch directly above her in the far right column.

“HELLO?” Sybill’s eyes appeared even larger as she peered into her mirror suspiciously.

“Tap it again with your wand if you can’t hear us and say, ‘I am ready to join this conversation in a sensible fashion’, the charm is very delicate and—”

“I CANNOT HEAR YOU!”

“Filius, it looks as though we need to look at Sybill’s mirror again. And frankly, I don’t see us ready to do this with the students next week.”

“IS ANYONE THERE?”

“Is there a way to get rid of that infernal sound?” Andromeda was covering her ears with her hands. With a sigh, Minerva poked the little image of Sybill with her wand, and it went black.

“Thank you,” Andromeda lowered her arms. “I think mine’s too loud,” she added, and there was a white flash as the tip of her wand poked the surface of her mirror.

“Mirror magic,” Filius grumbled.

“I know, they don’t hold transfiguration spells that well either. That’s theurgic absorption for you.”

Exasperated nods and scoffs from Filius and Septima, blank stares from everyone else. Andromeda raised one well-shaped eyebrow.

“Your magic leaves traces when you look in mirrors for reasons unknown. That’s why all mirrors develop personality over time. Mirrors with magical qualities are usually just very old and have been kept in good condition, allowing them to syphon off magical energy for years. They don’t take a piece of your soul as the muggle saying would have it, but something does stay behind.”

“And _that_ means that my projection charm and Minerva’s transfiguration of the mirror’s abilities will not work properly, most likely erratically, most likely only a short time.”

“Alright, still, let’s see who is here,” Minerva said, already tired of this experience.

She could see a tiled ceiling, Filius, Neville, Pomona, Andromeda, Septima, and a fish, who swam lazily through the square next to her own.

“Severus, turn that mirror around.”

His slightly annoyed face reappeared. Moments later, the tiled ceiling disappeared in favour of Penelope’s frowning face. She tapped her mirror with her wand repeatedly. Poppy’s mirror flickered to life, too, as did, after a moment, Bathsheda’s in the top left.

“Alright, let’s see how this works to carry on a conversation,” she said. “Filius, would you like to say something about the enchantment?”

“Yes, thank you, Minerva. It is a fairly easy one, making the mirror show its mirror image on itself and the other mirrors. This can only be done by collecting all sixteen mirrors and enchanting them together. This will likely be a very tedious process and I am certain that it is far beyond the students’ abilities, so we would have to create the mirrors ourselves.”

Septima and Minerva nodded.

“Delivery will present the obvious difficulties; we think that will probably be achieved best if we divide up the houses among each other and each takes charge of a number of families to give mirrors as well as instructions to.”

“I will see to it that muggle households will receive the material via their usual channels,” Minerva added, wondering why Penelope, on the left, was still poking her mirror with her wand.

“Oh, there you all are!” the young witch said happily. “I couldn’t see you,” she added self-consciously.

“Oh dear,” Phineas said in her office behind her.

“Yes, welcome, Penelope,” Minerva said, headache making a reappearance. How was this so difficult? Old habits seemed to die hard. Pomona, Filius and Andromeda were sitting on the ground next to their fireplaces, Bathsheda and Severus were the only ones who had propped up their mirrors on their desks like Minerva. Neville, sensibly, was in Green House three, and some species of flora kept interfering with his hair. Hagrid was sitting at the table in his cottage.

“Neville, why don’t you go ahead and demonstrate how to water honking daffodils and we’ll see if we can make head or tail of it,” she said to the square on top of her own. Neville did, and everybody peered closely at their mirrors.

“Tap Neville’s image, and tell the mirror to magnify it, that ought to make his image larger compared to the others,” Minerva instructed. It seemed to work for everyone. She ignored that both Andromeda and Severus had obviously started correcting something.

When Neville had finished the demonstration, she nodded and turned to Filius at the top of the second column.

“Very good. I’d like someone to try a practical demonstration of a spell, Filius, will you do the honours?”

“Alright, Let’s take it back to the early years. I would like you all to give me a demonstration of cheering charms,” he said happily. Minerva thought she could really do with the way this lifted everyone’s spirits. The glint in Filius’ eyes told her that he had thought the same thing. She could even ignore the way Phineas toured all portraits visible in every single mirror image and waved at the mirror, in the exact order they appeared in her mirror, the charm had worked too well for that.

“Andromeda, could you do a demonstration this way, too?”

Andromeda, under Sybill’s blank square, looked up distractedly.

“Of course, Headmistress, although I am confident that the practice tasks and the theory readings will keep them busy, anyway,” she said archly, even putting away her quill to reply.

“That stack of essays in her room _is_ quite large,” Phineas confided.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite hear you?”

“That was only Phineas,” she said, making a shooing gesture over her shoulder and ignored that the fish was back in Severus’ mirror. She turned her attention to the witch in the lower righthand corner.

“Will you be able to help us with enchantments again tonight, Septima?”

“Sure she will, it’s not as though she’s got anyone to keep her company,” a voice said scathingly from a blank, black rectangle above the fish.

Septima’s face became stony, Penelope hid the gleeful “o” her mouth formed primly behind her hands, everyone else stared at the black square next to Andromeda’s.

“Aurora, we can all hear you,” Minerva said.

There was a small squeak from the rectangle and Minerva was sure she had deactivated her mirror. Minerva looked at Septima’s flushed face.

“Septima?”

“Yes, of course I’ll help,” Septima said, her stern face looking even more angular than usual. Minerva suddenly missed Rolanda with a fierce passion. Minerva had told her she might as well stay home, since students could either practice flying or could not, and there was not much else to it, and she would have been able to say something light-hearted to save the situation.

“Excellent,” Filius piped up. “I think this is going really well, too.”

“I agree with Filius. Is there anything else you’d like to try out? Especially the practical subjects? Penelope?”

Penelope shook her head primly and Minerva’s hands itched to step back and do a demonstration herself to see if it would work, but resisted. The most difficult thing she’d had to give up was teaching, and still felt like a missing limb. The fish was back and looked as though it was eating the mirror, mouthing at the window in Severus’s study with tiny “o”s.

“Thank you, everyone, let’s have another practice round tomorrow! Remember to tap your mirrors sharply, saying “conference closed” to switch them off again, otherwise they continue showing what you are up to. Best put them back in the box.”

She waited a moment as everyone’s mirror turned black or continued to show the ceiling of the great hall, and saw that Andromeda had merely left hers next to the fireplace. She sat curled in an armchair next to the crib, and after a moment, she leant her head on her knees, her shoulders starting to shake slightly. Minerva flushed, feeling very intrusive. She shared a long look with Poppy to her upper right, the only other remaining witch, who gave her a nod, her mirror going black.

“Well, that was an outright catastrophe,” Phineas informed her, lounging in his chair.


	4. Chapter 4

“Good morning, everyone, good to see that most of you got your mirrors up and running, well done.”

The August heat beat down on the tower in full force, filling the air with the biscuity smell of warmed stone. In spite of having opened all windows well before dawn to let in some cooler air, Minerva felt as though she was being boiled alive.

From her desk, Minerva forced herself not to look longingly back into the black square behind which Severus’s quarters in the dungeons were inviting and cool. Neville, in Pomona’s former living room, looked equally relaxed and happy.

“Has everyone found something to demonstrate for us today? Our aim will be to see what can sensibly be expected of the students in their own homes. Filius and Neville started us off last time, Andromeda, will you do the honours?”

Silence in the square above Septima’s in the far right column. A piece of the ceiling was visible, otherwise nothing.

“Let’s give her a minute. Pomona, Neville, how are your easy seed collections coming along?”

In her upper right corner, Pomona grinned.

“We collected some of the easier magical plants that can be cared for in home circumstances AND which have many good uses.”

Minerva felt immediately cheered by Pomona’s happy manner. 

“Flitterbloms _are_ difficult to grow from seeds for the inexperienced herbologist, but it should be possible given the right potting soil,” Pomona said happily.

“And can everyone _find_ the right potting soil?” Severus enquired a tad sharply.

Pomona gave a shrug. 

“Not sure!”

“We’ll have Arabella give us some of hers,” Minerva said with some finality. “It’ll be what can be expected to be procurable for most muggles.”

“Will they be able to, though? Even Hogsmeade had to close some of its stores,” Poppy reminded gently.

Minerva sighed.

“We’ll have to see. I know that our minister has been to see their minister, but I am not sure how fast they’ll react. Of course Durmstrang and Beauxbaton have been closed for over a month now, and they’ve been having good results with setting the students to work on multi-subject projects, I’m told.”

Silence followed this announcement, with some colleagues exchanging significant glances. Multidisciplinary collaborative projects had been a much-discussed topic and so far, had been rejected soundly by the board members as well as most of the staff, to Minerva’s quiet relief.

A small hand appeared in Andromeda’s mirror and was soon replaced with the solemn face of a toddler.

“Hello, Teddy,” Minerva said warmly. “Could you get the mirror to your gran, there’s a love.”

The mirror was dropped in surprise, there was a shout that echoed round Andromeda’s quarters, and the _pat-pat-pat_ of his excited retreat.

“Hogwarts is really no place for children,” Phineas said behind her.

Minerva half-turned to give him a look.

“You know what I mean,” he said and vanished from his portrait.

“I… didn’t know Teddy was here,” Penelope’s small voice said. She looked very sympathetic.

“Well, Andromeda can’t leave him at home, poor mite,” Pomona said feelingly, to nods of Poppy and Bathsheda.

“She a very qualified witch,” Minerva said, ignoring Severus’s sardonic snort. “I was very happy she’s agreed to teach Defence against the Dark Arts.”

And the structure would do her good, Minerva knew from experience, the familiar warm, brown sandstone, the familiar faces, and the presence of people fighting each other over who could take her grandson off of her first. Seeing what her loved ones had given their lives to protect would also be a comfort, Minerva thought, seeing all the students who would have died without their sacrifice. Her eyes had filled with unbidden tears and she quickly pretended to sort a stack of papers next to her.

“Flitterblooms,” Pomona’s voice boomed with her usual tactful timing, “are also very good to keep indoors because of their ability to increase humidity and the air quality. Also, they’re fun to look at. We’re really hoping they’ll be able to get a chance and raising them, at least third years and above. What did you think of for first through third, Neville?”

Neville’s face lit up and for a moment, Minerva recalled the very first time she had seen this look on his face, in first year, when he’d told her all about his experiences in Herbology in a meeting she had scheduled on Severus’s insistence. 

“I’ve put together kits to grow Valerian. Of course, their usual planting season is over, so I have included a drop of fast growing solution in vials for the students. They will not get the full benefit of the fragrant flowers, but they should be able to harvest the roots this term. They’re also supposed to chart their progress, watering times, and how the plant is affected by the phases of the moon.”

Nods from all accompanied this announcement.

“Let me know if you run out, it’s easy enough to brew more,” Severus said kindly and Neville flushed, nodding.

“That sounds excellent, Neville! Penelope, could you give us a demonstration?”

Penelope nodded and moved away from the mirror, her mouth moving.

“Penelope, we cannot hear you,” Minerva said. 

“Oh! That might have been me, I poked her square to see what happens,” Poppy said in a small voice.

“Well, go and poke her again!” Minerva said in exasperation.

Poppy replied and said something inaudible. Her flitting eyes found Severus, who was smirking.

“Severus, really,” she said.

He looked up and said something, only that it was inaudible.

She ignored Sybill’s nasty look.

“Stop this childish behaviour at once,” she said, waiting for the headache to come on.

“Good that we found out about this before the students did,” Filius said placidly. “I wonder if that works with other things, too.” The tip of his wand appeared in his mirror and Minerva’s own mirror turned black.

With a sigh, she tapped hers sharply, saying, “I am ready to join this conversation in a sensible fashion,” and was back to colleagues who kept popping in and out, mirrors showing fireplaces and going black immediately afterwards.

She shared a look with Filius.

“Recasting the spells will be a long night,” she said with feeling. With a secretive smile, he held up a bag of silver liquorice fish.

“I am prepared,” he confided. 

After a few minutes, everybody would be tired of pretending to be students, Minerva was waiting for it to run its course. She watched Teddy bounce a yellow ball at the mirror. An owl flew over Hagrid’s mirror and tossed a letter on it. Argus’s mirror had gotten bored and showed a landscape. Irma was using hers to adjust her glasses, then left the visible part of the mirror. She ignored Severus’s quiet smile and waited it out, watching Teddy’s progress with his ball.

“Sorry,” Andromeda’s rushed voice said after a moment and she swept up Teddy and ball, sitting down cross-legged in front of the fireplace. “Get your gran a cup of tea, there’s a love,” she said distractedly, handing him a toy cup from the floor.

“Welcome, Andromeda,” Minerva said. “I was wondering if you could attempt a demonstration, too.”

“Of course,” she said, still looking off to the left. It was as though she was giving the empty square that was usually filled with Aurora a dark look. “No, not that one!” her wand flicked through the image. “Yes, you can use that one.”

She stood up and back from the mirror, then looked down and put it onto a chair.

“Alright, I want everyone to step back from their mirrors, and imitate the following gestures. You as well, Severus and Bathsheda.”

His expression very surly, Severus surged to his feet with a fluid motion that made Minerva’s heart skip a beat. He was one of the most graceful duellers she had ever known.

When Severus’ arm rose to repeat a complicated swishing motion, she realised that she had missed Andromeda’s demonstration and hurriedly looked back at her, her arm automatically mirroring what Severus was doing.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Andromeda said. “You need to make the circle a _lot_ larger, Penelope.”

Minerva realised she had never seen this particular spell before and felt oddly curious about what it was going to do.

Severus’s silky voice was no surprise, however.

“Who do you think the students will be up against, Andromeda? The Roman infantry?”

Andromeda gave him a long, measuring look.

“I need you follow the demonstration as a group of students unfamiliar with the spell would, Severus, but thank you for reminding me to find a way to dock house points,” she added with venom.

“Surely, there won’t be a House Cup this year?” piped up Filius.

“Of course,” Minerva said at the same time as Pomona said, “Of course not.”

Pomona’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, well, Minerva, if you think…”

“I _do_ think a sense of normalcy is important in these trying times, so there is no need to disband with everything school related. Andromeda, I do apologise.”

Neville, Irma, Severus and Penelope nodded, everyone else looked doubtful.

Andromeda made them go over the movement again, drinking pretend tea from the toy cup now and then.

“Alright. Perform the spell again and say, “ _Clipeo,”_

“ _Clipeo_ ,” they chorused. Minerva could tell that a circular shied charm had appeared in front of her and moved it about experimentally with her wand, knocking aside her chair.

“Oh, excellent,” she exclaimed. 

“And would you like to tell them the spell’s history, Severus?” Andromeda asked wryly, hoisting Teddy up on her hip, but Severus, disbanding the spell with a quick flick of his wand, made a deferential gesture.

“By all means, Andromeda,” he said silkily. “Please proceed.”

“This is a shied charm that indeed has a long history. It mimics the round shape used by, yes, Roman shields from antiquity, and was used primarily against spells intended to pierce or burn. It can hold considerable physical force, too, so it does protect against thrown objects, too. It’s been replaced by the more—thank you, Teddy, yes, in a moment—common and general spell _Protego_ , which does offer a broader scope of protection, mostly against spell damage.”

“Can we have tea?”

“Yes, Teddy, let’s do that.”

They all waved and Minerva poked Andromeda’s screen to black it.

“Alright, that went well,” she said. “Does anyone know what is wrong with Aurora’s and Septima’s mirrors?”

All eyes moved to Irma, who looked away.

“I’m here! I’m here,” came Aurora’s voice. “My mirror just does not work.”

“Strange,” said Minerva and poked it with her wand, adjusting the spell somewhat. Suddenly, it sprang to life, showing the fireplace in Aurora’s quarters and a bra, which was hurriedly pulled over and away from the mirror. “It's working now,” Minerva announced to the stunned silence that followed.

Aurora’s flushed face appeared. “Sorry, bit of laundry,” she said.

Minerva ignored Phineas’ sniggered “It’s not hers!” behind her. 


	5. Chapter 5

They lay on Severus’s four poster like tired starfish, spread-eagled on the cover, and luxuriated in the cold air on their skin. Minerva reached out and stroked Severus’ downy shin, which was closest to her, absent-mindedly.

“Andromeda is really doing a good job,” he said, apropos of nothing.

Minerva craned her neck up to look at what she could see of his profile in the murky gloom of the light filtering in through the lake.

“I agree,” she said, waiting.

“And she is in a truly shit position,” he added, rolling onto his stomach to look at her.

“Yes,” Minerva sighed. “To be honest I am thrilled to have that boy around here, he really livens up the place.”

Severus gave her a long look which she chose to ignore by closing her eyes and running her hands up and down his side, soon feeling the oddly coarse tips of his fingers on her forehead.

“That’s going to put me to sleep,” she warned sleepily. She yelped as he poked one finger into her side just above her hip. “You really know how to show a witch a good time,” she complained, sitting up.

“Lack of experience,” he drawled, settling down again, taking up the space Minerva had vacated.

“I doubt wizards enjoyed that, either,” she said, retaliating by grabbing his sides in turn, only to find her hands entwined with his. She had not seen him move. Quickly, she flicked her wrists to loosen his grip and managed to tickle one side, earning a snort of suppressed laughter. She felt like a much younger witch as their fight turned into easy love making, sliding from one position to the next when they felt too overheated, the novelty of their ill-fitting bodies still a mystery to explore.

Later, in the green-tinged dark, Minerva was lying on her side, running her fingers through Severus’s hair, who lay next to her, his back turned towards her. He was a restless sleeper, often twitching and muttering. When his breaths became deeper and sleep still eluded Minerva, she wrapped up in her tartan dressing gown and wandered the cool corridors.

She found herself wandering towards the hospital wing, and as expected, Poppy was still out and about, too. She let herself in, took two glasses from the hidden shelf in her office, and sat herself down next to her friend, pushing the glass over to her.

Poppy smiled gratefully at her, looking up from the instruction sheets she was writing

“You know, I think we ought to have this somewhere else tonight,” Poppy said, putting her hair into a quick plaid.

There was still light under Andromeda’s door, too, and when Minerva knocked gently so as to not wake Teddy, Andromeda’s red-eyed face appeared.

“Drink?” Minerva asked, holding up the bottle and glasses she had brought along.

Andromeda opened the door wider.

They were all in their sleepwear, and Minerva felt strangely reminded of her time at school, though they had not, of course, been in the same house, and Andromeda was significantly younger than the other two witches. They sat on the comfortable plush furniture in Andromeda’s living quarters. The dark blue fabric felt soft against Minerva’s bare legs and made her feel even more as though she was sneaking out of bed on a school night. They had finished their drinks, made a pot of tea, talked about this and that, about teachers long gone and mutual acquaintances, carefully skirting around the recent dead.

Minerva saw them everywhere around her, anyway, and imagined it must be much worse for Andromeda. She knew that even setting foot into her cottage had been hard in the beginning and not gotten much easier, it was too much Elphie’s home. She knew that Poppy had not gone back home often after Valeria’s death, either. It was hard to feel too sad with the summer air beating down on them and September just around the corner, always a time of fresh starts and new beginnings, to Minerva’s mind. They drank their tea and talked about this and that, enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence and the cool night air.

“So,” Andromeda said after a while. “Your partner is much younger. What’s that like?”

Poppy had gotten her tea down the wrong pipe and was coughing uncontrollably. Minerva reached over to pat her back sharply.

“Strange,” she confided. “He’s… very different from the partners I’d had before.”

“Well, he’s a man,” Poppy croaked, eyes streaming, and promptly started to cough again. 

“He’s a man,” Minerva said with a small smile.

Andromeda’s eyebrows rose even higher if that was possible.

“I see? I thought Poppy was the only one.”

Poppy’s burst of laughter renewed her coughing fit and Minerva kept patting her back fondly. 

“Hardly,” Minerva said, “Albus’s hiring policies favoured… people not likely to settle down to marry and have a family, and unfortunately, that still includes a lot of people like, well, me.”

“People who date much younger men?”

“Are you interested, Andromeda, should I ask him if he has any equally much younger friends?”

Laughing and shaking her head, Andromeda drained her tea.

“Actually, you’re in a minority around here, Andromeda.”

“I see. Well, I never minded that. Nor your blood status,” she added hastily.

“And what a relief that is,” Minerva said wryly, replenishing her tea with a flick of her wand.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s quite alright. If anything, I am very happy that we have someone to represent the more… traditional families, a lot of things changed during the last years, a lot of things that were considered favourable have changed, too, and that is a lot of insecurity that I really do not need my students to be having. Someone to look up to who belongs to an older family and has still embraced some… more progressive ideas while still representing tradition is a blessing to this school,” Minerva said earnestly.

Andromeda let out a deep breath and leant back in her comfortable armchair. In a lot of ways, she reminded Minerva of Augusta. Another formidable, unshakeable, brave character with backbone. Teddy would be fine.

“It’s good to see how little has changed, in a way. And how much is back to normal, too.”

“Which is why I agree that there should be a house cup,” Poppy said, having gotten her breath back.

“Definitely, though I cannot imagine getting through a ceremony with all 283 of our students. In mirrors.” Minerva rubbed her face, Andromeda reaching out to pat her arm gently.

The next morning, Minerva slightly regretted not having gone to bed earlier when she got ready to head up to her own quarters and her mirror. Even though the castle and its sprawling grounds were empty, she felt strangely claustrophobic. She turned to Severus, whose rather lovely, graceful fingers were busy with the long line of buttons that closed his robes.

“Let’s take our brooms and have a short outing later,” she said.

He paused, quirking an eyebrow, then continued closing his robes, having to lift his head slightly to get to the very last ones.

“Will we have time?”

Minerva pressed her lips together.

“I am not enchanting any more mirrors today, the last two days have been enough. We shall have to see what we can do with the ones we do have, and I have a floo call with the ministry at five.”

He was clearly not thrilled about the idea, but nodded, his black eyes searching her face. “Very well.”

She smiled and kissed him, gently cupping his cheek before she hurried back to her own quarters, mirror, colleagues, and Penelope’s demonstration. She had warned herself not to be too strict. The girl had done a splendid job last year, after all.

They got through the demonstration without any major hiccups and Minerva wrote the information letters for the beginning of term, feeling uncomfortable at having to leave it this late. Of course, she had written to the students before when it transpired that this year was not going to be as easy as the ones before that. She was still copying the last of the letters when Severus entered her quarters and looked at what she was doing over her shoulder. He was carrying his broomstick.

“Those are going to be reassuring,” he said. “Some parents have already been in touch and they will be pleased to hear that there is a plan for how to go ahead.”

Minerva smiled up at him gratefully, put down her wand and tidied the resulting pile of parchments for sending.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

They left via the roof and Minerva immediately felt better, with the wind playfully tugging at her hair and robes, and the spot of Severus gaining on her in the distance. She loved flying, had always, would always love it, and knew that if the injury hadn’t put an early end to her career by giving her slight balancing troubles, she would definitely have tried to pursue a career in the sport.

Severus was not as graceful in the air as he was on land but could hold his own. When she skidded to a halt above the lake, she had to wait a few moments before he drew abreast with her, looking slightly grim. Minerva, baking in the heat, sat up on her broomstick and turned to him.

“Have you ever tried air duelling?”

“No, but if you want to end up in the lake, you might as well just jump in now,” he said, having drawn his wand so fast Minerva had trouble seeing it.

She avoided his mild hex easily by rolling her broomstick to one side and lifted her arm upwards. She countered with a blast of bright bubbles designed to send his broomstick careening downwards. They continued shooting spells at each other, Minerva easily avoiding his by zooming out of the way, Severus easily blocking all of her spells with curt motions of his arms. His posture was stiff, concentrated, and she could tell that he'd much rather be standing on the ground. Minerva continued to get him to fly, to no avail. 

Sweat trickling down her back, Minerva fired a confounding hex, but Severus blocked it easily and fired something she couldn’t see.

Minerva had immediately rolled away and now, upright again, she sent a direction confusion spell at his tail end, which his shield charm narrowly missed, making his broomstick jump suddenly sideways.

It was the first time he had moved at all, as always, all his motions had been precise and minimal. Well, now he had trouble getting his broomstick back under control and she aimed a full body bind at him, and it seemed to connect with something.

Her glee was cut short when an immobilisation charm _somehow_ hit her left leg, making it hang useless by her side, and severely restricting her movement. She decided she needed more space between them and zoomed upwards, zigzagging.

She knew that he would not move if he had to. Well, she fully intended to make him by sending hastily conjured up balls of water careening down at him, keeping him busy with blocking them as she aimed another full-body hex, raising her arm high in concentration.

Suddenly, her left arm turned numb, another immobilisation spell. She lost her temper and for a moment concentrated solely on hitting his face with a ball of water. It exploded wetly on his forehead and while Severus sputtered for air, she tried to confound the direction sense of his broomstick. Suddenly, her broomstick lurched downwards, then refused to work and dropped sharply.

As she plummeted towards the invitingly cool water of the lake, she reached out in the last minute to hold on to the robes and tug the black-clad shape with her. She could not believe the swearwords which came out of his mouth as they careened towards the glittering surface of the lake.

As the water engulfed them both, she felt transported back to her childhood, out bathing in the lochs with her brothers, whose waters were as bracingly cold as the lake’s was. She came to the surface gasping for air a few feet away from Severus, whose face was murderous. Minerva reached out to her broomstick and soggily pulled herself up, then held out her hand to help him up in turn.

“A draw,” she pronounced wetly.

His eyes were glittering maliciously as he pulled her back into the lake.


	6. Chapter 6

“Minister,” she said warmly to Kingsley, who had a slightly harassed expression and got up from his desk to sit down cross-legged in front of the fireplace. “How are you?”

“Very well, Minerva, thank you.” He rubbed his forehead. “Please tell me you have found a solution to how to teach the students. I… A lot of parents have been in to see me.”

Minerva gave Kingsley a very sympathetic look and shifted into a more comfortable position on her hearth rug.

“Not to worry, we have sorted something out. It is… less than ideal, but I am confident that the students will not suffer the closures too greatly in most disciplines apart from Potions. I know that they will be able to make up what they’ve missed by the end of the year, though. How are things at the ministry?”

Kingsley rubbed his face, looking very old, his large frame sagging.

“I see,” Minerva said wryly before Kingsley could answer.

“Well. I had not anticipated two crises on my hands within my time as Minster for Magic,” Kingsley admitted. “We do have a good lead over which magical item irresponsibly found its way into the muggle world and caused this strain of spattergroit, now it’ll only be a matter of tracking it down.”

Minerva raised her eyebrows, Kingsley shook his head.

“Has Malcolm ever shown you the little copper disks on which some of the stranger fungi – like Spattergroit, incidentally- can be contained and transported in a containment spell for research purposes?"

“No?”

Kingsley sighed deeply and shifted so that he could dig something out of his right trouser pocket. The thing he held up in front of Minerva’s face made her heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” she said.

It looked worn, though there were oddly raised areas in the middle of the disk, as though the expected engraving of the face had faded beyond use.

“Oh _no_ ,” she repeated for emphasis.

“I see that you have an idea how it could spread so quickly within muggle communities,” Kingsley said. “It spread so quickly especially among the less affluent muggle populations that our healers have taken to calling it Mundanogravedinosic Spattergroit.”

Minerva felt her forehead settle into a frown. “First of all, whoever named it should probably retake their Latin NEWT, and second of all, ‘muggle headcold Spattergroit’, Kingsley, really?”

“In poor taste, I agree,” Kingsley said, pocketing the disk again. “Their Minister says that their hospitals have their work cut out for them as it is, which means our own magical disease containment have to work a whole lot harder.”

Minerva still looked at the small copper disc, which she had not seen in a while. She remembered the feeling all too well, her hand pressing the coin, holding it tight so she would not lose it, on the way to the shops, to buy sweets.

“I am really sorry, Kingsley,” she said feelingly.

“With the Death Eaters, at least it was clear how to get rid of them and who to aim at,” he confided.

Minerva smiled wryly, remembering times when that had been far from the case, but tactfully stayed silent.

When she entered the dungeons, she was greeted by the sight of piling envelopes and Severus, who was licking a stamp and affixing it to the front of one of them. Gratefully, she stepped over to his desk, took his hand and kissed it.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll drop them off tomorrow.”

“I can do that, too, it’s no trouble.”

She noticed a small pile of packages and nodded at them.

“What are those?”

Severus sighed.

“I decided to have the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years read some theoretical material after all. It can’t hurt and they will get a deeper understanding of the material. The seventh years had better be able to manage some simple brewing, too.”

She smiled warmly at him and he looked away, busying himself with the remaining letters. Minerva hugged him from behind and, having affixed the last stamp to the final envelope, he leant backwards against her, lifting up his chin to rest his head on her shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re making this possible,” Minerva said.

“Don’t tell Andromeda, she’ll never let me live it down.”

Minerva’s chuckle made his hair bounce against her nose and she sneezed.

“Do you feel intimidated by her?”

Severus gave an ungraceful snort.

“Good, then you will be nice enough to tell her that you liked her idea.”

He craned his neck to give her a dark look.

“She’s having a tough year, Severus, and she respects you a lot. A kind word from you will go a long way, I’m sure of it.”

He sighed. “And we do need her,” he said.

Minerva ran her hands up and down his front, his head back on her shoulder. After a while, she could feel him relax into her embrace and had to take more of his weight as he leant back entirely. Skittish, he was, Severus.

She did not compare between her lovers, as a rule, but this was definitely new to her. Well, Elphie had—but Elphie was a different matter entirely. She inhaled his scent deeply and he turned, giving her an inquisitive look. Minerva did not know what the question was, so she gently pushed him against the desk and kissed him, careful not to disturb the letters.

Later, in the comfortable darkness, only very dim light filtering in through the seaweed outside, she got the answer.

“Can you believe that we’re still here?”

He said it so quietly that she was certain he had thought that she was already asleep. Minerva moved her hand up to touch his heart slowly pumping away in the dark, slightly picking up speed now that her fingertips were above it.

“I know,” she said and ran one fingernail up to his jugular, barely touching his skin. She was rewarded with a shiver running down his entire body. When she touched his scar, he stilled. His skin was thicker there, over the messy pattern of tissue covering the snakebite. “It is miraculous, really.”

He gave an inaudible huff that she knew to be a laugh.

“That falls entirely within your area of expertise,” he said silkily.

Minerva suddenly became aware of the fact he was waiting for her to fall asleep as he was in an odd mood, not quite wanting to be alone, but bashful of her waking presence. She obliged by putting her hand back to its accustomed place around his ribcage, snuggled her cheek against his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She was aware of his quiet voice a while later but could not make out any words. It was a question, she knew that much, but she was not ready for anything he could not say to her face, and she doubted that he was. For now, she was content with taking what she could, day by day.

She was greeted by mirrors which all showed seascapes when she activated her own. Only the one next to hers was clearly a view from Severus’s window.

“Good _mor_ ning,” she said forcefully. “What is everyone doing?”

“When you do throw two pinches of floo powder on these,” came Filius’ excited voice from the storm-tossed sea at the top of the second column, “it shows you seascapes! Try it!”

Minerva got up from her desk and walked over to her fireplace, letting two small pinches of floo powder trickle onto her mirror when she came back. It glowed for a second, then seemed to sink into the silvery surface and vanish, her face being replaced by dramatically cresting waves.

“Oh! Very exciting,” Filius piped up again.

“Do we know why this is happening?”

"Now, this is bound to vastly improve our teaching experience,” Andromeda said wryly.

“Alright, this is enough,” Minerva said, and tapped her mirror sharply. “Finite incantatem.”

Her mirror flickered back to show her face, and so did those of her colleagues, instantly, apart from the one to her right, which stubbornly stayed the view from Severus’ window.

“Hm, looks as though spells cast on my mirror affect other mirrors, too,” she mused.

“I am sure the students will put _that_ to good use,” came Severus’s sarcastic voice.

Immediately, nearly everyone was poking their mirror with their wands and they alternatingly turned scalding, freezing, and then purple. Minerva had put hers back on her desk and watched Bathsheda sucking her fingers in an annoyed fashion, then waving her wand. Minerva’s mirror wobbled and took on a rubbery texture.

Minerva was lucky that at some point, everyone was distracted by who had appeared in Septima’s stead in the lower righthand corner and she could put their mirrors back to normal.

“And good _morning_ , Aurora,” Pomona said warmly from the top right. “And how are you two this morning?”

The silence was instant as everybody stared at the ruffled cloud of black hair that had appeared in the mirror. Aurora was wrapped in a sheet, her stern expression strangely softened, then, she spotted the mirror. Her eyes widened and had darted out of the screen. Everybody just sat there, staring, before Irma gave a little cough and gave Minerva a meaningful look.

“Well, if everybody has exhausted their testing, I would like to tell you what the board of governors has asked us to do.”

Minerva felt their collective breath of anticipation in her bones. She had had that feeling, too, when Mordred Mulciber had asked her for a chat after she had gotten out of the floo call with Kingsley.

“They are aware of the difficulty of the situation, naturally, but they do feel that academic standards are to be kept up as much as possible. But they also want us to take into account that some students will not be able to get the necessary support they need. So they and the ministry have asked us to suspend any grading and just allow the students to progress in their work, but not penalise any missing work.”

In the resounding silence, Severus turned his mirror over to frown at her in person.

Andromeda gave an exasperated snort and fed Teddy a piece of toast.

“So we are supposed to come up with new teaching methods and materials, and whether or not anyone actually does the work is _optional_?”

“I was as surprised as you are, and their demands are not binding. They do, however, represent a fair contingent of the parents and therefore we have to take their views into account.”

“For students from… well. Less privileged backgrounds that probably would be a good thing though, surely?” piped up Pomona’s gentle voice.

“As far as I am aware,” said Severus silkily, “it is each Professor’s duty to make sure that everybody _can_ cope with the material they provide.”

Andromeda gave a snort.

“It is not as though you even _submitted_ any tasks, Severus.”

His eyes were dangerous.

“Would you like me to take over some of your classes, Andromeda? It would be—”

“Silence, the pair of you,” Minerva said testily. “As far as I could see, the students will be able to cope with the tasks you all have come up with, so that should not be a problem. I do plan on grading especially theoretical work. It is no different from the homework they have to complete over the holidays.”

Many nods all around.

“I have started sending out the mirrors and information today, and for larger families I plan on delivering them via floo call, it seems most convenient. Anything else needed?”

Shakes of head.

“Alright, then I will see you for lunch in a moment. Conference closed.”

And she tapped her mirror, took a deep breath, and rubbed her forehead.

This was going to be a long, _long_ year, but the students could come. She was sure of that. Nothing had taken down Hogwarts so far, and if the Dark Lord had not succeeded, and the Dark Lord before _that_ had not succeeded, she refused to believe that a mere illness was going to bring them to their knees, either.


End file.
